


We Can Live Forever If You've Got The Time

by Natileroxs



Series: Golden Days [3]
Category: Fall Out Boy, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magic, But also not, Gen, Podfic Welcome, Pre-Band, Pre-Split, Urban Fantasy, a lot of people in this have magic it's fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-18 22:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20199577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natileroxs/pseuds/Natileroxs
Summary: “What the fuck?”Mikey looks up, a small piece of solid gold in one hand and a scraping stone in the other, mismatched jugs and pans bubbling away around him. Some were even sparking.Frank and Gerard are standing in the doorway, Gerard looking a little sheepish and Frank looking a lot freaked out.“Uh… I can explain…”(Golden Days AU Part Three, focusing on Mikey)





	We Can Live Forever If You've Got The Time

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of two My Chem heavy fics for this AU.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta'd by Blake18
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blake18

**1998**

Mikey was born like this. He knows that. From the meagre age of five, he was already mixing herbs and stones beside his grandmother. 

He grows up learning of both the good and evil sides of magic. From the dangerous witch hunters, to the kind-hearted smiles of his grandmother as she tells him that it’s his duty to watch over his non-magical big brother.

Gerard doesn’t know. Gerard doesn’t know until one day Mikey accidentally drops a cigarette into one of the pots on the stove and the whole thing erupts into flames. From the petrified look he gains from his brother, the flames must be something other than the orange glow they’re used to. Turning back, they’re blue, and he rushes about trying to find exactly what he needs to both put out the fire and save whatever he’d been cooking.

“Uh… Mikey? What the hell was that?” Gerard asks with a small voice once Mikey has sorted the whole thing out. 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “I can explain?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he gets the feeling it won’t be the last time he’ll say them. 

Gerard’s voice is shaky when he spits back, “You fuckin’ better.”

Spellcasting isn’t his forte, but he does know the basics, so he uses an uncoordinated flick of his wrist slam the door shut a little too hard. Gerard jumps. He then puts on a hesitant grin as Gerard stares at him. 

“So… the thing is,” he laughs nervously and rubs his hands together. “Magic is kinda real…”

Gerard blinks. And then blinks again. And then he slides down the cabinets and grabs at his hair. After a few minutes of silence, he glances up at Mikey again, still twiddling his thumbs and waiting. 

“What?”

Mikey bites his thumbnail as he explains. “Magic is real, always has been. I know some magic, not like a whole lot cause I’m not  _ that _ kind of… uh… magic person.” He shrugs. “Why is this so hard to explain?”

Gerard hasn’t removed his hands from his hair and is now pulling on it roughly. 

“Gee.”

“What are you even saying?” Gerard is shaking while Mikey kneels beside him. 

“I know, I should have told you ages ago. But I… I just couldn’t find the right time.” Mikey sighs. “I’m not joking, I promise you. Magic is real.”

“So… you’re like a wizard or something,” Gerard whispers after a few more minutes of silence. Mikey cracks up laughing. 

“Not really.”

“So, wizards don’t exist?” 

Mikey can’t stop the smile. He can’t. His elder brother’s hesitant questions just make him so happy. So happy that they can finally talk about something that’s so important to him. 

  
“Wizards, no. There’s lots of different magic users.”

“Like what?”

“Well… There are witches and warlocks, who are the flashy spell casters. There are mystics, which is what  _ I _ am.” 

“Oh…” Gerard looks around at all the mess. “So you do… what? Make potions and shit?” He says with somewhat of an amused face and a joking tone. 

“Pretty much.” Mikey smiles and Gerard gawks. He pushes himself up against the cabinet for a few seconds before he slides back to the ground, giggling a little. “You alright?” Mikey asks, more than a little concerned. Gerard can’t stop laughing. 

“This is so ridiculous. When do I get to wake up?” Gerard talks more to the air than to him, but Mikey attempts to answer the question anyway. 

  
“This is real, Gerard. And it’s not  _ that _ ridiculous.” 

“You sure?”

“When you’ve done this type of thing since you were a little kid, you get used to it.” Mikey wraps his arm around Gerard’s shoulder as the shudders begin to soften. 

“Uh… you were saying about the magic users.” Gerard says are a few minutes, trusting himself not to crack up with nerves. 

“Right, yeah. Well… Witches, Warlocks, Mystics. And then you get the necromancers, which I personally have never encountered, the weaker versions who are just called psychics, the charmers, which I probably don’t have to explain.” Gerard nods. “And… the seers.”

Gerard notices as Mikey hesitates when stating the last part, and looks at him with a furrowed brow. 

“What?”

“Why did you pause like that,” Gerard asks, searching Mikey’s eyes for the answer.

“No reason.”

“Mikey.”

“What?”

“Mikes.”

“What, Gerard?”

“Michael James Way, answer me right now.”

Mikey frowns and crosses his arms. If Gerard is pulling out his full name, Mikey has literally no chance at keeping this from him. 

“Fine, fine. Grandma always said that  _ maybe _ …  _ just maybe _ , you are a seer.” Mikey ends it off with a shrug, trying to casually brush it off while Gerard stares at him, wide-eyed.

“What?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s it. That’s all we have to talk about,” Mikey rushes through the words before he bolts towards the door. 

“Mikey.”

Mikey pauses at the door, one hand on the handle, and turns around. 

“Explain.”

  
“Okay, okay.” He pushes his glasses up and rubs the bridge of his nose. “She used to say that, when we were little, you used to… know things. Like, you used to have nightmares that prophesied the future. But only small moments, insignificant moments. She said it could be…” 

Gerard pauses in grabbing Mikey’s arm. 

“Nightmares?”

Mikey’s eyes widen. “You… and you didn’t say anything?”

“I thought it was weird, scary, and would eventually go away. Half the time I thought it was just a dumb coincidence.” Gerard sighs, choosing to cross his arms. Mikey stays silent, just staring, and Gerard begins to defend himself. “Hey, you never said anything, so I thought you’d just think I was crazy.”

Mikey begins to laugh. “Oh my god. I was so fucking scared to tell you. To think, all this time…”

“Right back at you.” Gerard moves forward and wraps Mikey in a hug. “Holy shit.”

“Okay… well. Let’s promise not to keep anything to ourselves anymore.” 

Gerard gives him a little smile and receives one in return.

* * *

**2004**

Playing with Fall Out Boy is wild, the shows one blur after another. They’re currently crowded around a table, swapping silly tour stories when Pete says something that makes Patrick pause and turn his head. 

“Huh?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been working with this group of kids, 17 to 18 years old, they want to be rockstars. They’re good though, so I got the label to sign them.”

“Who are they?” Gerard asks. 

“Panic At The Disco. But there’s an exclamation point after  _ ‘Panic’ _ .” Joe laughs and the rest join them while Pete attempts to defend the quartet he’s picked up. 

Mikey laughs because he thinks it’s amazing. That kids so young could get Pete Wentz’s attention. Their name is charming, unique, and from the way Pete talks about them, it sounds as if they have the potential to be something massive.

He pulls Pete aside and asks about possibly meeting with the kids, and Pete gives him a huge smile, so glad that  _ someone _ was treating Panic seriously. 

When Mikey meets them, he’s surprised. All four are wearing dark eyeliner, have straightened their hair, and sound amazing. The lead vocalist, Brendon Urie as Mikey finds out later, has such a beautiful, full voice, that harmonises perfectly with the backing vocalist and lead guitarist, Ryan Ross. The drummer, Spencer Smith, puts his heart and soul into his drumming and they remind him of the band back when it first started. 

He hopes that they make it. He hopes that they achieve their dreams. He already knows from first glance that they deserve it. 

“Thanks for coming to see us,” Ryan tells him hesitantly after they finish. Mikey smiles. 

“No problem. You guys were great.” 

Ryan nervously chuckles and keeps his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes to the floor. “Thank you.” 

Suddenly, someone hugs Ryan from behind and the boy jumps before laughing as Brendon tickles him. Mikey watches them, grinning so hard it hurts, when Pete comes up beside him and points. 

“Told you, they’re gonna be great.”

“I hope so.” 

* * *

**Early 2006**

Brendon throws his arm over Ryan’s shoulder as they go off the stage, both breathing heavily and covered in sweat. Spencer flicks his hair out of his face and blindly reaches for his water bottle, downing it in one go. 

Mikey sends them a giant grin as Spencer flops onto a couch, sighing.

“You guys were good,” Mikey says and Gerard high fives both Brendon and Ryan, congratulating them on the show. 

“That was fucking amazing,” Brendon cries as he spins Ryan around. Ryan’s smile is wide and he dances in a wide circle with Brendon. 

And that’s when Mikey sees it. He sees the love they share. And it just makes him shake his head and watch. 

“Let’s go get some drinks, yeah?” Ryan says, motioning out the back towards the bus. “In celebration.” 

Ray helps Spencer up and Frank darts out, followed by Gerard, Ray and Spencer, Ryan and Brendon, and finally Mikey. 

They laugh, and they drink, and they smile.

* * *

**Late 2006**

Mikey’s mixing something, some girl had tracked him through the grapevine to get him to make her some sort of warding charm. He doesn’t know how people know that he’s the real deal, as he hasn’t found another magic user to help him, or to even talk to, aside from Gerard anyway. It’s a little lonely, but he grew up keeping his secret, so it doesn't phase him anymore. 

The window hangs open ajar and the alley it’s overlooking isn’t the nicest, but he’s seen worse. So he just calmly goes back to his work. Shouting comes from the alley. He forces himself to ignore it. Probably just a few crackheads going at it. 

The sound of sparks. Now that… that makes him pause. 

He stands from where he was kneeling, opens the window a little wider, and sees two figures, one chasing the other. One is cloaked, outfit conceited and over the top, a little cartoonish actually. The other wears a jacket, jeans, sneakers, and in general, just looks like a normal person. Aside from the sparks coming from his hands and flying at the cloaked figure as he darts behind dumpsters and piles of trash. 

A warlock?

And if he’s a warlock, then the cloaked figure is a witch hunter. A nasty bunch that treat magic folk as less than human, like monsters. They make him sick. They don’t talk to each other, they don’t communicate. Witch hunters are solo, they aren’t aware of others and even if they were, they wouldn’t share their secrets, they're too proud, too selfish. It’s in their nature.

Unlike them, however, magic folk are the most sociable group, or as he was told long ago. He’s yet to find anyone who he can join forces with. 

So he ducks his head out the window and yells really loud. Both figures look up at him and both go to run. The witch hunter is successful. The warlock is not. His ankle gets caught and precious seconds escape him. 

“Hello?” Mikey calls down and the warlock looks up at him again, eyes pretty much glowing. Mikey watches him pull his leg free and then the mystic motions for the warlock to come up and through the window. 

“Come on, I know you can get up here, man.” 

The warlock needs no more encouragement, scaling the building with ease. Mikey pulls him in and the warlock stares at the mess around the room. 

“Oh… You’re a mystic.”

“Yeah,” Mikey nods. 

“Well. It’s nice to meet you.” The warlock suddenly holds out his hand. It’s covered in blood spilling from a cut in his palm. Mikey denies a shake and instead digs through the cabinets, finding gauze and bandages, before turning around and wrapping his hand around the neck of a bottle of healing liquid. It definitely won’t be an instant fix, but it’ll get rid of the blood, clean the wound, and urge it to heal quicker. 

He bandages the wound, takes the guys other hand, and shakes. 

The warlock shakes his head and grins. “I’m Ryan. Ryan Seaman. Or Rys.”

Mikey attempts to suppress a snigger. The guy nods, like it’s happened before. It’s probably happened way too much. Mikey coughs and introduces himself. “Mikey Way.”

Rys’s eyes go wide. 

“Mikey Way, as in... “

“My Chemical Romance? Yeah.”

“Wow…” Rys breathes out. And then his brows knit together. “And you’re a mystic?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. So, you got buddies helping you or what?”

“Buddies?” 

Rys freezes up. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re solo.” 

Mikey shrugs. “Pretty much. Gee’s a seer, but other than that…” Rys moves to jump out the window. 

“You busy right now?” 

“Other than this,” He gestures around him. “No.”

“Come on then, I’ve got to show you something.” 

Mikey sighs and moves instead towards the door. “Fine, I’ll meet you down there.” Rys shoots him a grin and drops. 

When he dashes through the small motel room, all four of the people present glance up at him but Gerard is the only one to try and stop him. He catches Mikey’s arm and Mikey keeps going. Gerard gets dragged out the door and Mikey shuts it before sighing. 

“I’m just going out, Gerard.”

“Where?” He raises his eyebrows. “And why are you in such a hurry?” 

Mikey droops, answering truthfully. “I just met a warlock, and he invited me to go somewhere with him.”

Gerard’s eyes widen and then light up. “Wow, that’s awesome… okay, go on.” He motions for Mikey to go and so the younger brother does, flipping his brother off when he hears, “and make sure he treats you right, baby bro.” 

Rys is waiting outside, ready to go. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet as he stands. As soon as he sees Mikey, he grins and gestures back down the alleyway. Mikey follows him between buildings, down into an underground abandoned train station, and then through a hole in the wall, into the backyard of who knows. 

Rys lets himself in the backdoor, calling out “Hello?”, which receives a cry of, “Ryan!” from a decidedly masculine voice.

A tall, beanstalk like, guy, meets them in the hallway, hugging Rys gently for a minute before he stops and stares at Mikey. The guy gives him the same look that Rys did, and then holds his hand out to shake. 

“Dallon Weekes,” The guy quickly introduces himself. 

“Mikey Way,” He responds and gains a smile and a shake of the head from Dallon in return.    
  


“I know. God, it’s so nice to meet you.” And then sends Rys a quizzical look, confusion written all over his features. “So… what has he roped you into?”

Mikey’s about to lie his face off when Rys laughs. 

“Nothing much. He just helped me out,” Rys waves his bandaged hand about before continuing. Dallon eyes it but holds his tongue. “He’s a mystic, and a lone one at that, so I thought I should bring him over."

Dallon breathes out slowly. “Okay… now, what the fuck did you do to your hand?” 

“Doesn’t matter, Mikey put some weird magic shit on it so it’ll be just fine.” 

Dallon sends him a thankful look and then cuffs Rys over the head, which receives a pout in return. “Well, Mikey, as thanks for looking after my best friend here, let me make you lunch.” 

Mikey shrugs and goes along with it. 

As they lead him to the kitchen, Rys starts explaining. “Me and Dallon have been friends for quite a while. This place is sort of a safe house, so feel free to come back here whenever you need to. Bring your friends as well if you need to.”

“Safehouse?”

“A heavily guarded house that hunters can't sniff it out. All their dumb trackers and crap don’t work here. And the reason why a human owns this house.”

“A human?”

Rys motions to Dallon. Mikey lets out a soft ‘oh’ and nods. 

“I’d been living here with Dallon for a while before I told him.” 

“How long?” Mikey asks as he sits down on the couch beside Rys. 

“About a year. Couldn’t quite keep it from him.” Rys laughs. 

“I kept it from Gerard until I was eighteen,” Mikey states and Rys’s eyes widen.    
  


“Wow.” 

* * *

**Early 2007**

“What the fuck?” 

Mikey looks up, a small piece of solid gold in one hand and a scraping stone in the other, mismatched jugs and pans bubbling away around him. Some were even sparking. 

Frank and Gerard are standing in the doorway, Gerard looking a little sheepish and Frank looking a lot freaked out. 

“Uh… I can explain…” 

They are on break, and he’s decided he’s going to spend his time working on some crap to try and protect the band from whatever rogue groups might be out there. He hasn’t had much experience with this type of stuff, but it can’t be that hard, can it? He’s a Mystic and all the recipes are there, he just needs to follow them. There doesn’t need to be any complications. And there hadn’t been. 

Until now…

Frank’s eyes keep darting between Mikey and Gerard, shaking his head harshly. “How… this can’t be… are you fucking serious!” 

He slams the door shut and the trio are cut off from the outside world. Mikey jumps and Gerard yelps. 

“Are you for real?” Frank comes over and looks at all his books and mixtures and then Mikey studies Frank’s face. There’s surprise, of course, a little shock. And… annoyance. 

“Frank?” Gerard tries. 

Frank pulls at his hair, letting out a frustrated huff. “This whole fucking time.” 

Confusion fills Mikey up and he finds himself voicing it. “What?”

“Yeah, Frank. What?”

Frank massages the bridge of his nose. “You’re a mystic.” He states and Mikey stares at him. 

“How did you… how did you know that?”

Frank raises an eyebrow. He lets out another puff of air. “You can’t figure that one out yourself?”

Mikey can’t put the pieces back together, but Gerard figures it out so quickly it gives him whiplash. “You’ve got magic!” 

Frank chuckles and smiles. “Yes, Gee, I’ve got magic.”

“Wow…” Mikey breathes. “I never saw that coming.” 

“I never saw this mess coming.” Frank gestures around them. Mikey sighs and begins to tidy up. 

“So…” Gerard hums, “You have magic… care to elaborate?” 

“Not really. I’ve only ever used it once.” Frank settles on the rim of the bathtub. “When I was a kid.” Mikey places bottles and the rest of his equipment back into his box, sliding it to the corner of the room. Gerard sits on the floor beside Mikey. Frank continues. “When my new puppy got hit by a car…”

Mikey frowns, thinks, and then looks up at him, wide-eyed. 

“Are you kidding me?! And I thought Gerard being a seer was insane…” Frank blinks at Mikey’s words and then stares at the third occupant of the room. 

“He’s what!” 

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what your thoughts are in the comments.


End file.
